Scrabble
by SupernaturalKinji
Summary: Dean and Sam get into a row after ghostly Papa Winchester comes for a visit. Chapter 1 up, R&R as always.


As always, the ever-present DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, and I would like to mention that they are completely out of character. Thanx and enjoy

Chapter 1: Don't forget the underdog

Sam sat up and rubbed his back slowly, wincing slightly at the pain that shot up his spine. He heard the bathroom sink running and knew Dean was in there, washing his face, or hair, or whatever he did in there that he felt the need to leave the sink on for hours. Sam slowly slipped into his robe and slid out of the cheap motel bed; glad the springs were no longer digging painfully into his back, as they had been all that night. He sighed and went into the kitchen area, glad their cheap motel had the bare necessities for once, and they didn't have to eat out.

The brown walls were covered in damp brown paper and across them, tacked on (or in most cases held on by the water in the paper) were research for their next hunt. And they had gotten nowhere with it. The leads they had were too broad for them to know exactly what it was they were up against. Sam hated that. That mystery. Especially since it was one of his visions that had gotten them there in the first place. The sink finally shut off and Sam gritted his teeth. Would Dean remember last night at all?

Dean walked in and stared at Sam for a moment before he smirked. Sam flushed. "Lets do that again sometime," he said in a tired voice. "But this time, I jewelry doesn't count as clothes."

"A watch isn't jewelry," Sam said in angry defense of himself. Or more importantly, his pride. A watch wasn't jewelry, he was sure of it. Dean shrugged and winked at Sam.

"Sure it isn't. Well, you're the one who set the rules," Dean reminded him with a laugh at the deeper flush that appeared on his younger brother's face. "Now if you want to play Strip Scrabble again, I am more than willing. But keep to your rules."

"Agh, I was too drunk to know what I was doing, I don't ever want to remember that. And you were so drunk I'm surprised you remember.

Dean shrugged. "Honestly, me too. I didn't think I would remember all that with all the bottles I finished." Sam smiled weakly and began to make himself a bowl of cereal when a rattling knock came from their door. Sam almost dropped the cereal in surprise and Dean jumped. The rattling banging continued until Dean slowly approached the door and peaked through the peephole. He suddenly drew back his head with a jerk.

"What is it, Dean," Sam whispered. "Feds?" he added to hide his fear.

Dean shook his head and turned back. "No…it's dad," he said slowly, trying to savor his words even as they came out. Sam stared at him in surprise.

"What," he said in a harsh voice. He wasn't going to believe that. John Winchester was dead. "That's impossible."

"I know its impossible, Sammy, but that's what's out their, waking everyone else with his insistent banging," Dean exclaimed, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Do you think it's a shape shifter?" Sam asked slowly. Dean shook his head.

"Impossible. I would have been able to tell. So, do we let him in, or leave him to bang until we get kicked out."

Sam smiled weakly. "Personally, I'm too freaking freaked to let him in, but you know what Dean. You do what you want." Sam huffed back into their bedroom and sat on the bed. What the hell was this? A ploy by the Demon? That was the most plausible. He couldn't think of anything else it could be. His dad was dead, so how the hell was he standing in their doorway so real and so insistent on seeing his sons.

Dean appeared in the doorway with John right beside him, staring down at Sam with semi-concerned eyes.

"Well now, I never thought that Sam would be so upset to see his own father," John said in a sarcastic voice and Sam could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"How do I know you're not the Demon," Sam asked in a hushed voice, looking into his father's black eyes. John smiled.

"You don't. There's no way to prove that I'm not. That holy water doesn't work on it, we've already proved that. Maybe a stake through the heart?" Sam scowled

"This is no time to joke, old man," Sam hissed. "Get out of here." John frowned and then shrugged to Dean, who had began to protest.

"Fine then, Sammy. Dean, I'll be down by the Impala. Meet me there." John said before walking out of the room. The door shut heavily behind him and Dean wheeled on Sam.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Dean seethed at Sam.

"He's dead, Dean. He's dead and he came back to ask for our help? I don't think so. You trust him if you want. I cant." Sam got to his feet and proceeded into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him. Dean pounded once on the door and then huffed.

"Fine, Sam, whatever. I'm so sick of this. I'll go see what he wants." Sam listened and didn't move until he heard the door of the motel slam shut behind them. Sam sighed wistfully and took off his boxers, turning the shower on and stepping into its steaming water, letting it roll down his body and drain away. He felt his worries flow down with it and he slowly relaxed as he began to play with the water and dip his head under it, fully immersing himself in the hot waters.

The door to the room opened and slammed and Sam felt his muscles tighten once more and his relaxed state was gone. Was it Dean, or John that walked into the room? A knock on the door and Dean's voice and Sam knew who it was.

"Sam, get out here. We need to talk," Dean said loudly over the roar of the water and through the thick door.

"Give me a minute, Dean," Sam said back tersely. He impatiently shut off the water and stepped into a towel. He opened the door and stared angrily at his brother. The shower was his favorite part of the day. And it had been interrupted. This had better be good.

"What is it, Dean," Sam asked gruffly. Dean pushed Sam against the wall and held him there by the throat. Sam chocked and clawed at his brother's strong hand.

"What the hell do you think you are doing," Sam shouted in a gasping voice.

"I'm taking care of a Demon," Dean said back angrily.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sam gasped.

"Shut up, filth, prepare to die."

End Chapter 1.

By the way, if you want the directions on how to play Strip Scrabble, just pm me and depending on the amount of people who want them, I will post it in a later chapter.

Always, SupernaturalKinji


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